


Klepto

by SansyFresh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Ownership, Rehabilitation, Streettale, Theft, They aren't bros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a city run by monsters, Sans has to steal in order to survive. So when he finally gets caught, what can he do but listen to the asshole of a cop that could very well end his life?</p><p>On permanent Hiatus, sorry</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Catch a Thief

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is mostly self indulgent, but it is also a fic based on an AU by amortem-kun on Tumblr. So, this is a lot different from their art in the sense of Pap's personality, but I can't write a rapey asshat of a Paps...unless its writing that Sans get's away from said Paps. So...yeah. Their original idea in the terms of Fell Papyrus being a cop and Fell Sans being a bad boy. Not sure how long this will be...but I'll let you all know ^^
> 
>  

Sans ran, his breath ragged and his black and orange jacket only barely staying on at his shoulders. He hadn’t had time to fix it. Ducking into dark alleys and vaulting over fences and trash, he ran like his life depended on it. Which, it did; stuffed into Sans’ pockets was enough Gs to pay off the old man and feed him for a month or so. It had been a good score; which was satisfying as he had painstakingly set up the robbery of the small convenience store for weeks, convinced that they would have enough to last him for at least a bit. Turned out they had more than he anticipated, filling him with a strange, honestly unwelcome hope as he fled the scene.

 

Unfortunately, there was an unplanned variable to his perfect heist. There had just so happened to be a police officer patrolling nearby; just as Sans calmly passed his car, he heard the radio inside crackle, the few words reaching him before he took off sounding suspiciously like "robbery" and "skeleton". Now he had run for nearly seven city blocks, a car still chasing him with siren blaring and lights flashing bright colors over the buildings they passed. Sans really wasn’t sure how the cop knew these back streets and inner city neighborhoods so well, but it didn’t matter. He was almost home.

 

Gasping for air as he turned the last corner, Sans ducked through a broken entry way, porting directly upstairs. _If only he had been able to shortcut the entire way_ , he mused as he tried to catch his breath, dumping his pockets into the plastic container found weeks ago while dumpster diving. The abandoned building he had come to call home was perfect for his needs, as no one ever entered for fear of the structure collapsing. Sans was light and could shortcut out quickly if he needed to, so he stayed there. The cop wouldn’t dare to come here to look for him.

 

“Home sweet home…” Sans joked quietly, flopping on the ratty blanket he had pilfered. People really needed to stop leaving their laundry to dry outside. Wrapping his coat tightly around him, he ignored the hunger pangs from his soul. He’d eat tomorrow, when things had cooled down enough for him to leave. Wincing as the pain grew, Sans turned over towards the wall, curling up into a ball. He could get through this. He had survived for this long, he couldn’t give up now. He couldn’t give up now…

 

~.~

 

The tall skeleton watched as his quarry shuffled about the room, putting away his stolen money and curling into himself on the floor. How in the world could that be comfortable, especially for a skeleton?! The officer shook his head, not daring to move from the shadowed corner he had hidden himself in. He had followed the little thief all across the city, determined to catch him. Now that he saw how the little klepto lived, he felt a pang of something in his soul. It felt like several different emotions, but the one that stood out the most was pity.

 

Sure, he was a officer of the Ebott City Police Department, yes he had vowed to stop criminals from vandalizing and terrorizing the city any longer. But he had grown to realize that while some broke the law or killed or stole simply because they felt like it, there were some that did it because they had to. Because they had no other choice. They did what they needed to survive in the harsh world they lived in.

 

Tilting his head at the little skeleton that had fallen into a fitful sleep, Papyrus judged that this skeleton was only doing what he had to, what was required for him to live. Gritting his teeth, he made a decision. One that would probably come back to bite him in the ass later, but he never went back on his decisions. Steeling himself, Papyrus silently got out his handcuffs and stole over to the sleeping skeleton. He got within two feet when the other felt his presence and jerked up from his makeshift bed, fear in his eyes as he gathered up attack magic. Papyrus growled and threw himself on the smaller skeleton, pinning him to the ground and slapping the magic-deterrent handcuffs all City cops were issued on the other’s wrists. Feeling his magic slip away, the small thief went limp.

 

Papyrus breathed deeply for a moment, easing himself back down. Being hotheaded would not help in this situation. Situating himself on one knee, he pulled the other up from the floor, careful not to wrench his arms. Papyrus nearly dropped him as he saw his face, his eyes scrunched shut and tears streaming down his face as he whimpered quietly. Papyrus watched him for a moment before he stood to his feet, picking the other up carefully before making his way out of the decrepit house. Yes, this decision would bite him in the ass later. It would probably hurt his career, if not ruin it. But he had already decided. And the Great Papyrus does not go back on his decisions.


	2. My Name is Papyrus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you guys have no idea how hard it was to write this....my body hates me T_T Enjoy!!

Sans kept his eyes on his lap, his face blank as the cop who had caught him, another skeleton to his surprise, or, more like shock, drove to the heart of the City. How exactly the cop had found him he wasn’t entirely certain, all he knew was that he was now without magic, in the back of a police cruiser, with the knowledge that the justice system knew about his way of life. It wasn’t like this was the first time he had been caught, but it had been several years. Long enough for a lot more warrants to be placed on his head. And now he was once again caught, unable to blip away or even fight back. Life sure did hate him, didn’t it?

 

“My name is Papyrus.” Sans looked up, a bit shocked at the sudden voice from the front of the car. He tilted his head, trying to decide if the other was expecting a response. Mostly he was just surprised the other had said anything.

 

“I thought I should tell you, before anything else happens.” Sans frowned. It was pretty much guaranteed that once he was brought into the precinct this cop would never see him again. What, did he think he’d be put in charge of Sans? He must not know who he is…

 

“You won’t ever see me again, it doesn’t matter what your name is.” Sans growled, glaring at the back of the cop’s head. He jolted a little at the dark chuckle the other loosed.

 

“Crimson Sans Fontaine. Wanted for charges of arson, multiple cases of theft, both armed and unarmed, several reports of fight-inciting, bar brawls, and homelessness. I know who you are. I am not some lowly beat-cop.” Sans flinched at the sound of disdain at the end of his speech, feeling like at least some of it was directed at him.“If you know who I am, then why the hell do you care if I know what your name is? What, you want to make sure I know who looks the other way when the other prisoners have their way with me?” Sans snarled. He took satisfaction when the other flinched, smiling smugly.

“No, I was making sure you knew who saved your pitiful existence from that fate.” Sans snorted.

 

“Yeah, sure. I know how these things work. Isn’t the first time some cop got lucky.”

 

“You think you know what’s going on. Let me assure you, you have no idea.” And after that the cop didn’t say another word. Sans just stared at the back of his head for a few minutes, before he growled and went back to staring at his lap.

~.~

They drove for maybe another twenty minutes (Sans almost found the cop’s grumbling about traffic amusing) before Sans felt the car pull to a stop. Keeping his head down, he stayed in place as the cop got out and went around the car, opening his door and grabbing Sans by the arm. Sans shuffled off the seat and walked as the pace ‘Papyrus’ set for him, which was a bit quicker than he would have preferred, but it wasn’t like he was in the position to snarl at him to slow down. He kept his eyes on the pavement, flinching a little at the instant flurry of noise as they entered the precinct, Papyrus leading him directly to the prisoner check-in. He blocked out the jeers from other cops and those they had arrested at him getting caught. Like he gave two shits what they thought. If it weren’t for these damn cuffs Sans could dust them easily, and they knew it.

 

“Crimson Fontaine, follow me.” Sans followed whoever had spoken without looking up. He knew what the next part of the process entailed. Pictures, a change of outfit, and being locked up in the small solitary section the jail had, waiting for his trial so they could lock him up for good this time. Better him locked up and tortured than on the streets causing them problems. Sans felt his throat constrict a little, and had to blink rapidly to keep the hot tears he felt surface from falling. He couldn’t show weakness, especially not here.

 

“Stand with your feet to the wall, face forward.” Sans did as he was told, and felt one of the magic-restricting collars be placed on his neck before they removed his cuffs. Huh. They had tried to make them more comfortable, it seemed. Although, if Sans was honest, they kinda felt like dog collars looked. Made sense, he wasn’t much more than a mutt off the street anyways. He was turned forcefully and made to continue walking, down the white hall that reeked of disinfectant. To his surprise, they passed the Inmate Classification room, walking straight to the solitary cells. Sans wasn’t sure what to make of this. They weren’t going to frisk him, take his picture, steal the only possessions he had to his name? The guard that had been escorting him pushed him unceremoniously into the farthest cell from the hall and locked the heavy metal door behind him, the loud clank of the lock sounding very final in Sans’ skull.

 

Sans stared at the door for a few minutes, pulling his jacket around himself closely. Why hadn’t they done what they normally did? Wasn’t he an inmate now? Wasn’t he a prisoner? The turn of events made his head swirl so he sat against the far wall, wrapping his arms around his legs, close to his chest. His soul pounded in a faint jump of anxiety. What was going on? This was nothing like the first time he’d been locked up, although he had a lot less charges on him that time. They wouldn’t let him go this time.

 

He ducked his head between his knees, his emotions and anxiety bubbling to the surface and becoming impossible to ignore or keep down. Good thing no one could see him here, how weak he was as he sobbed, finally giving up.


	3. Piece of Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo....this will get updated (hopefully) every Thursday and Saturday. Sorry it took so long to update TnT
> 
> Enjoy!!!

Papyrus checked on Prisoner Fontaine, as the skeleton he had caught had been named the moment he had been put through the system. The small thief was sobbing, attempting to hide back into the corner of the room. Papyrus felt his soul pulse once again, but he ignored it for the moment. Frowning, Papyrus strode quickly from the solitary cells, mouth set in a firm line. If he was to go through his plan, he had some things to take care of first.

~.~

“Well look who finally got caught?” Sans flinched, tears long gone and face having since been dried off hours ago. Three cop stood to the door of his cell, the door itself wide open, as if he would be able to get past them to freedom. He remembered these three intimately; they were almost always the ones who got the closest to catching him. Undyne, NG, and Bunny. Three assholes who, if Sans didn’t know any better, would think they were drunk half the time with how shoddily they did their jobs. Well, Bunny probably really was drunk all the time. Sans had seen her pull a flask from wherever she hid it often enough while hiding from them.

 

“Finally mess up, you piece of shit?” Undyne snarled, mouth pulled up in a toothy smirk. Sans just glared at them, refusing to take part of whatever game they wanted to play. More than likely he’d be getting the shit beat out of him soon enough. No need to make the beating worse than it was gonna be already. Although his silence didn’t seem to do anything but tick them off. Undyne strode forward, NG right on her tail, gripping Sans by the collar and lifting him from the floor and off his feet.

 

“I asked you a question, shrimp.” Sans flinched away from the growl, but only barely. He stared up at the corrupt cop, made sure she was looking him in the eyes, before lobbing a large wad of spit in her face. She dropped him, screaming in rage, and Sans only had a moment to let the pleased smirk rest on his face before he was curled over, boot crashing into his ribs and skull, NG having joined in on the attack. He cringed at each blow and verbal assault, though it was things he heard before. He was garbage, a piece of shit, worthless, waste of space. All the things he knew to be true already, but everyone in his life just seemed determined to remind him every fucking second of his life.

 

Cries of pain joined his own, and suddenly the blows to his bones were gone, though the sounds of someone striking someone else still rang though the room. Sans struggled to push himself up enough to look around, and found Papyrus beating Undyne and NG within an inch of their lives. Bunny had apparently escaped. Sans watched as Papyrus fought them, though it was truly one sided, rage fueling Papyrus’ magic. Sans could feel the intense anger from where he huddled against the wall, and to be completely honest he was confused. The cries stopped finally, and Sans found his vision going in and out from the pain. To strong arms lifted him into the air, and he only had enough left in him to curl into the warmth the other exuded before he passed out.

~.~

When Sans awoke again he was laying on something soft, a thick blanket wrapped around him and healing magic still radiating off his bones. He wasn’t in the jail, the smell and feel was different. Panic quickly settling in his soul, Sans scrambled out of the blanket and looked around. He had been sleeping on a couch in a large living room, the kitchen on a separate level, with stairs leading up to it, but open so that from the living room you could see in. Sans turned and found a few large windows, one of which left room for a sliding glass door, and found that he was nowhere near the city. Outside the door was a large forest, the mountain range that rested outside of the city laying beyond the sea of trees he saw.

 

Now he was plain terrified. That cop had “saved” him only to kidnap him. Who knew what twisted plans the other had for him? Who knew what kind of monster he really was? Breath hitching as he began to hyperventilate, Sans ran to the front door, fumbling with the top lock and starting on the chain when a dark red aura surrounded him. Sans began to tremble, eyes scrunched tightly shut, as he was turned around.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?”


	4. Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a new chapter ^^ Enjoy!

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” In hindsight, maybe snapping at his kidnapper was a bad idea. Not that Sans was known for his decision making skills in the heat of things. Still, even as Papyrus held him a foot or so off the floor in his own magic, Sans glared up at him, very aware he was still wearing the damn magic-inhibiting collar.

 

“What I’m doing is saving your life. Now, either calm down and come eat breakfast, or I will make you wish you had been left in that damn jail cell.” Sans flinched as the other strode toward him and snarled, his form tall and imposing. He nodded desperately, ignoring the other’s huff of amusement as he let him go. Papyrus then walked calmly up to the kitchen, bringing two plates of food down with him. Sans felt his sockets widen at the amount of food, his soul letting off a distinctly loud sound of hunger. His skull turned red as Papyrus let out a loud chuckle before shoving a plate in his hands and directing him back to the couch he woke up on.

 

Sans began eating as soon as he sat down, only keeping the most basic manners in his mind as he had not eaten in a few days, let alone food this rich. He would more than likely regret it later, but right now his soul was guiding him. He ignored the very blatant staring Papyrus was doing, instead enjoying what could prove to be his last meal, depending on what it was exactly that Papyrus wanted from him.

 

Once he was done he sheepishly took the napkin Papyrus offered, handing over his plate and walking behind the other up to the kitchen to throw away his trash. Sans noticed the other seemed to enjoy cooking, as the sheer amount of food and utensils he could see kind of amazed him. Soon Papyrus was done cleaning up, crossing his arms and leaning back on the counter to stare at Sans. Sans shifted from one foot to the other nervously, though he tried to appear angry.

 

“So how the fuck did you get me out, anyways? Did you kidnap me? Because I’m pretty sure taking me outta the jail wasn’t entirely legal.” Sans snarked, his eyelights pointed down. He heard Papyrus huff again, before speaking.

 

“What those cops did to you wasn’t entirely legal either. But I assure you, I did not simply pick you up and walk out of the precinct. I got permission to bring you to my home.” Sans finally looked up at that, a shocked confusion on his face.

 

“And why the hell would any cop want to take me home?”

 

“I saw how you were living Sans. I know why you became the criminal you were. You don’t deserve to live the rest of your life in a rat hole of a cell, raped and abused every other fucking day, simply because you were trying to survive. So. I brought you home. End of story.”

 

Sans truly had no words. Did the other pity him? Was that this entire thing? Because if it was, then he’d be out on the streets or worse by the end of the week. He’d been pitied before. He hadn’t always be a loner. But…if this taller skeleton was sincere…maybe he’d finally have a safe place. Maybe. He still wasn’t sure if he truly trusted this cop or not, but the fact that he had beaten the crap out of Undyne pushed him up in terms of “this person I can trust”. Sans nodded, imitating the other’s pose by leaning back on the kitchen table and crossing his arms, a light smirk on his face.

 

“What’s up with keeping the collar on me then, boss?” Sans smiled in satisfaction as Papyrus snorted at the nickname.

 

“Would you trust a highly on-alert individual to NOT attack you right away when in a strange place?” Papyrus asked, raising one brow ridge. Sans chuckled lowly and shook his head. “That’s why. Once I know for sure you aren’t going to try and take off or attack me when I’m not expecting it, I’ll take it off.” Papyrus shrugged and walked back into the living room, opening a small closet at the front door and taking a black parcel from it before offering it to Sans. It was his jacket, the one piece of clothing he had been able to take care of and keep over the years. He carefully took the thick leather jacket and slipped it on, telling almost immediately that the smell of mold and dank places no longer emanated from it as he took a deep breath.

 

“I took the liberty of washing it for you. Figured you might need something to keep you warm in the coming winter months.” Sans looked up and found that Papyrus was not looking at him as he spoke. There was a different reason he had taken care of his jacket. But Sans didn’t really care why. He was in a warm, safe house, with all the food he could need and someone who didn’t seem to be a psycho killer. Time would tell for that though, he supposed. So Sans just smiled, nodding a little thanks that Papyrus returned. He was safe. For now.


	5. The Collared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I have finally figured out what the hell I'm doing with this fic lol 
> 
> So, more updates soon.
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!!

It didn’t take long for Sans to exhaust every possible escape tactic he could think of. Which, as a “seasoned criminal”, he knew of quite a few methods. It turned out it didn’t matter.

 

His first action was to map out Papyrus’ house and the surrounding woodland, though he was only able to do so when his housemate was gone. The officer still wouldn’t let him leave, his collar keeping him on the main property by restricting his ability to shortcut. Sans wasn’t exactly happy with that development; even outside of the jail he was a prisoner. 

 

Though he would have been more surprised if Papyrus had just left him with free reign. Sans certainly wouldn’t have trusted himself that much.

 

It was easy to get bored, being alone for random allotments of time every day, though any attempt to hike in the forest ended with him traipsing through briars and unruly underbrush to get back to the damn house. 

 

And the damn smug look Papyrus would give him every time he would come to dinner with clothing full of burrs didn’t help matters.

 

However, even with all the distrust and tension between them, Papyrus was, for lack of a better word,  _ nice _ . He made food for the both of them every day, even offered to teach Sans how to cook different easily-made meals. Not that Sans ever accepted, but he certainly watched when Papyrus made more intricate meals.

 

To make sure the other skeleton wasn’t going to poison him, of course. There was definitely no way he enjoyed watching the other at work, doing something he clearly enjoyed. It wasn’t that at all.

 

Which is what they were doing now, Sans grumpily picking burrs from his jacket while Papyrus prepared what looked to be some kind of omelette. Sans himself wasn’t super fond of eggs, though after living on the streets he had found that anything was preferable to dumpster diving. There were some smells (and tastes) better forgotten.

 

Papyrus cut peppers and small chunks of sausage, frying it all in a separate pan than the eggs. There were already potatoes, thinly diced and fried to crispy perfection, mixed in with the rest of the toppings, cheese added almost as an afterthought. Then, once the eggs were a nice golden color Papyrus flipped them, laid them flat, and spooned in the mixture.

 

Sans found himself nearly drooling at the smell; a common occurrence any more. At least he had stopped eating like a pig by now, as though he wouldn’t get any other food for the foreseeable future. Papyrus had made certain he understood he could get food anytime he wanted, even if he wasn’t there. 

 

This skeleton was out of his mind.

 

A plate piled high with freshly cooked goodness was set in front of him, Papyrus handing him a paper towel and a fork before sitting with his own plate, their drinks already poured. Sans waited until the other began eating before trying his own, sockets closing as the various flavors hit his tongue. He could see Papyrus studying him out of the corner of his eye, making sure he enjoyed his meal. Sans was sure to eat with a tamed enthusiasm to show his thankfulness; who knew what would happen if the officer thought he didn’t like his cooking?

 

Which wasn’t true in the slightest, even Grillby didn’t cook this good. Not that he would admit that out loud if asked, the flame could keep a grudge.

 

The meal itself didn’t last long, Sans almost always hungry and Papyrus needing to get a start on his day. The officer tended not to indulge Sans on his daily schedule, not that Sans ever asked, but it would have been nice to leave at least once in a while if he wasn’t on duty. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to at least ask (Papyrus hadn’t used magic on him since the first day), Sans studiously stared at the table as he began.

 

“Hey, whatcha doin’ today?” The silence was a bit uncomfortable; they didn’t actually talk all that often, especially in the mornings. Sans could feel the other staring at him, before Papyrus stood, taking their plates to the sink.

 

“I have to go to the store and run a few errands. Why?” Sans sighed in relief; he didn’t sound angry Sans had asked.

 

“I was wondering if I could tag along. I’m not going anywhere, just need to get outta this house for a bit.” He didn’t realize how that sounded until Papyrus turned, giving him a look. “Ah, shit, I didn’t mean...this is a really nice house, I just get bored y’know? I mean-” His panicked babbling was silenced by a brow raise from the other skeleton, a playful smirk on his face. Sans huffed, scowling as Papyrus chuckled to himself, returning to the dishes.

 

“I don’t mind if you tag along, but we’ll have to follow the Collared rules.” It was like he could feel the angry glare Sans was giving him. “I don’t like it either, but if you wish to remain under my protection, it’s required.” He backed away from the sink, drying his phalanges with a soft towel, being careful not to rip it with his sharpened phalanges. “Or you could just stay here and remain bored out of your mind.”

 

Papyrus shrugged as though it didn’t matter to him one way or another what Sans decided to do, heading back downstairs. Sans glared after him, more than a little pissed.

 

The Collared were any of age monsters under the jurisdiction of another, signified by a collar with the owner’s magic marking it. If they went anywhere outside of their owner’s property, they were required to wear both their collar and a leash. Papyrus hadn’t yet  _ marked  _ his collar; if out of respect for him or no desire to do so Sans had no idea. But if he left the safety of the house, not only would the other do so, he would also have to lead him around like a damn dog.

 

It would be humiliating if anyone he knew saw him, not that he really cared all that much but he would rather that information not get to certain monsters. But...he really wanted to get out, if only for a little while. Would being leashed really be all that bad? 

 

Well, he didn’t have all that much time to decide. Sans wiped his face with his napkin, throwing it in the trash before taking the steps down two at a time. Papyrus would be leaving soon. 


	6. Stoic Onions are the Bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should reiterate: this is going to be absolutely different from the comic of Streettale. Like, in pretty much every way lol I just borrowed the main, initial idea.
> 
> Sorry for the wait on this (again). Hopefully I'll get these chapters going again on a more regular basis.
> 
> Enjoy!

Papyrus had to wonder how this was affecting his “charge”, even as they walked down the street in full view of everyone, a leash connecting them. He really hadn’t believed that Sans would want to still come knowing what the stakes were, what he would be required to do by law. But the other had dutifully walked down to the front door, put on his shoes, and waited while Papyrus had clipped on the leash.

 

There hadn’t been any problems since, other than Sans pulling his hood up in mortification of the clear bouts of staring as they made their way through the city. Papyrus didn’t care one way or another what the other did to make himself more comfortable. If having his hood up made him feel better, he wasn’t about to say a word.

 

“We need to get groceries first.” Papyrus had kept up a mostly one-sided conversation for the duration of their excursion, hoping to keep the other at least somewhat from focusing on the monsters and humans staring at the both of them. Sans just nodded, keeping his head down like most of the Collared you could find out in public with their masters.

  
Papyrus certainly hoped that was the reason he was acting so submissive. The other seemed like a true anarchy-type when they were home, always trying to get away or figure out how to piss him off with jabs and otherwise playful banter. It was fun, sometimes, having someone to talk to, rather than being alone when he went home.

 

Too bad this was only a temporary occurrence.

 

Entering the local organic market, Papyrus almost grabbed a basket before Sans beat him to it, holding the handles with both hands and giving him an expectant look. It was unnerving, but Papyrus got the message. It would look better on them both if Sans actually behaved like he was the servant. That way if anyone saw them that knew them, they wouldn’t think twice. Just a wealthy monster and his boughten servant, on a regular outing.

 

Rather than a cop and a convict, out on friendly terms because one of them was bored out of his mind.

 

Papyrus read out his list as they traversed the aisles, Sans getting each item and placing it in the basket once he was sure it wasn’t rotten. 

 

“Stoic onions are gross. Why in the fuck would you want to use those in your cooking?” Sans looked up with an incredulous expression, for once forgetting their little act. Papyrus chuckled, grabbing a relatively healthy onion and placing it in the basket before answering.

 

“You sure didn’t mind when I used them before.”

 

“I would know if you used that nasty ass vegetable in anything I’ve eaten.” 

 

Papyrus chuckled, looking through the different brands of water sausages (much to Sans’ interest). “I can name at least three dishes you’ve eaten in the past two days that had stoic onions as an ingredient alone. Five if we’re counting all week.” He turned his head at a scoff from the smaller, Sans crossing his arms.

 

“Bullshit. There’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed.”

 

Papyrus shrugged. “Believe it or not, Sans. I use them in quite a few dishes; you like them a little more than you let on.” He thought for a moment, before his face scrunched in disgust. “Actually, maybe you wouldn’t have noticed with the disgusting layer of mustard you put over everything. How anything can taste good with that garbage, I’ll never know.”

 

Continuing on his way down the aisle, Papyrus looked down through his list, mentally checking off the items they had already retrieved, determining that they only needed to grab a loaf of bread before they were done for that venture. An almost loud gasp of (faux) indignation caught his attention once more as Sans stomped his way in front of the other, looking him in the socket.

 

“Lemme guess. You’re one of those ketchup loving bastards, aren’t ya!” 

 

The absolute disgusted look on Sans’ face made Papyrus snort, before he smirked, nodding. “I like ketchup. Not on much, but I enjoy it.” Sans shook his head in mock disappointment, before going back to his subservient manner, though not without tutting for a moment.

 

“I’ll have to work on getting you to convert, you ketchup loving scum.”

 

Papyrus had to hold it a loud snort, forcing himself down the aisle and towards the front of the store. He had to admit, the companionable banter was much more enjoyable than the both of them avoiding each other. Maybe this was a sign the other would be open to more discussions, other than what they wanted to eat and whether or not Papyrus had a bad day at work.

 

He shook his head, his smile dropping. He shouldn’t get too close to the other. They wouldn’t be roommate forever. Sans would surely want to leave as soon as he was able; he had made that clear enough with all his escape attempts.

 

Papyrus set to work loading all their items on the conveyor, noting with a small grin that a bottle of ketchup and a bottle of mustard were included with the items he actually had on his list. Turning to tell Sans to wait up by the register itself, he noticed the other seemed locked on the alley across the street. It was empty save for a few wisps of trash being blown by the wind, and dark the further back it went.

 

“Sans?” The other startled, looking back to Papyrus with an almost shocked look on his face before it was replaced with a small smirk.

 

“Yeah boss?”

 

Papyrus looked from him to the alley and back, sockets narrowing before he sighed. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important now. He could ask later.

 

“Just...you need to get the bags.”


End file.
